


Slammed

by Napchirk (Nootly)



Category: Antizeroes / Lucid Project
Genre: Aftermath, Feeding Kink, Is Reis Cordis a kink?, M/M, Stuffing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 04:47:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16111121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nootly/pseuds/Napchirk
Summary: One mistake becomes a very long sequence of more mistakes as Reis ruins his own morning and can't say "no." Or "woops." Or "please I'm only human and I didn't mean to order this."





	1. Part 1: Reis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VOREYEURISM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VOREYEURISM/gifts).



> Vy sent me some drawings that held my dick hostage for about three weeks so to get it back and also get him back I had to write this. Enjoy. It's not actually that Spicy™ but I'm rating it M anyway because kinks.

He had wanted a “junior slam.” Two pancakes, two eggs, two sausages, and a coffee. What he ordered by accident was just a “slam.” Which was, apparently, two _stacks _of pancakes, a whole side of sausage, hashbrowns the size of his head, six eggs, a pint of juice, and a coffee. And Reis didn’t realize his mistake until it was all coming to his table.__

__There were so many layers to this problem. The pancakes were already topped with whip cream, syrup, and fruit, which meant they would go soggy if he tried to take them home. The eggs were over easy, which meant they wouldn’t reheat for shit. There’s no universe where toast reheats well, either. He could maybe get away with not eating the hashbrowns or sausage, but a pan at home never really gave the same flavor as a diner griddle, which was why he came here in the first place._ _

__“Why is it always breakfast…?” he mournfully mumbled to himself. Tarou wasn’t even there to force him to finish it all. He was just going to eat himself sick because he couldn’t handle telling the kitchen they’d made so much food that would go to waste. The diner was packed with extraterrestrials four times his size who probably _all_ wanted slams on _purpose_. If he reordered, he wouldn’t get his junior slam until _lunch_ probably. _ _

__“Only idiots would do this. Why am I doing this.”_ _

__It was the same diner as last time, too. They probably just thought he was like this. This was just what he got for trying to be a functional person for once and eat a regular meal. Resigned, he started in._ _

__It wasn’t so bad, for a while. If he closed his eyes, he was just eating a normal breakfast. Some pancake here, a sip of juice there, a sampling of eggs and hashbrowns. Maybe he could do it if he just didn’t look at how much there was? Reis attempted to keep his mind busy by getting an equal amount of fruit and pancake on his fork with each bite. He dipped the toast in his eggs and had some sausage and hashbrown in one go. Doubling up would make it disappear faster, too, right?_ _

__Mid-bite, he remembered something amazing. He got his phone out so quick that his fork was left hanging in his mouth as he typed the fastest message ever._ _

__**[Clair I need help, please respond asap.]** _ _

__**_[Whats going on where are you] ___** _ __ _

______Wow, that was a decent response time for Sinclair. Reis typed back.  
**  
****[i ordered the wrong thing at the diner and**  
**i need u and duguan to help me finish all this**  
**food or i’ll die]**  
  
There was a notable gap between the first response and the second one. Reis left his phone face-up on the table and finally removed his fork from his mouth to keep chewing. 

_____**[You piece of shit. I thought i was gonna have to drag your body out of an alleyway]**_ _ _ _ _

______“Oops…”  
__**  
****[Also]**  
**[No]**  
**[Duguan just ate so right now im in charge]**  
**[And i wouldnt eat human diner food if it crawled inside me on its own]**  
  
The fact that Clair had bothered to type that much meant that he had probably really scared him. Reis stopped eating to hold his head in his hands, utterly defeated and a little guilty. Then it crossed his mind that if he was trying to act like he did this on purpose, it didn’t make sense for the staff to see him so miserable. He leaned back in the booth and laughed at himself. All he wanted was to get out of this without having to confront anyone or waste food, and it was honestly not worth the effort. But he was doing it anyway. 

____Reis did not get much farther into his food journey before the gross feelings reared their heads. He’d consumed about as much as he intended to originally, and looking at the rest of the table made his heart sink. He was maybe… a fifth of the way through? And he had managed to kill the juice and his coffee while trying to wash everything down. A server came by and asked if he wanted refills on either of them, and he said yes to both, purely because he could not eat the rest of this dry._ _ _ _

____With every bite that he continued to press into his mouth, the food became less and less flavorful. His body didn’t need any more. It didn’t want anymore, and it was desperately trying to convey this to him, making everything taste like a dry sponge or handful of clay. Stop putting the dirt in your mouth, stupid! Why are you eating dirt! Swigging coffee made things taste like food again, but only for a moment, and it only helped fill him up._ _ _ _

____“If pancakes weren’t ruined for me before…”_ _ _ _

____His stomach tightened, and he wondered if his body was trying to throw up but didn’t have the strength? It was a lot to move, Reis supposed, and he laughed at himself again. Waves of nausea did nothing to stave off his hand as it kept leading food to his mouth, the other one trying to appease his body by rubbing his stomach. He had barely noticed how round it was growing, and his eyes widened as his fingers traced the gradually tightening fabric of his hoodie._ _ _ _

____He kept his mind off the present moment by thinking ahead. What the fuck was he going to do when this was all over? As he slowly but diligently cut morsels of hashbrown and pancake, he could feel his eyelids growing heavy. He’d probably sleep for a whole day. He wondered if he would even make it home before falling asleep, actually._ _ _ _

____Reis zoned out for quite a while, but came back to reality when he felt his abdomen start to press against the cold metal edge of the table, his mind spiraling into disbelief and despair. It was dizzying, the amount of food that was inside of him. At this point Reis had rocketed past a future “food coma” and was quickly heading towards “incredibly lucky if his gut would let him fall asleep.” His resolve faltered severely as he adjusted himself in the booth, trying to make himself comfortable. It was a futile effort, and the movement only drained him further._ _ _ _

____He couldn’t fathom walking home after this._ _ _ _

____There was no way he was going to clean all his plates. Some of it would have to be left behind, but a certain amount of scraps would be acceptable, and Reis was so close to being passably done. Some of the plates had actually been mercifully taken away by servers, and all that was left in the grand scheme of things was about five more bites of pancake._ _ _ _

_______But he was out of will. He was sick, his clothes were too tight, sweat gathered on his brow, and his vision was narrowing._  
__  
“People with good manners clean their plates before being excused~”  
  
Reis’s face went red as Tarou’s voice rang through his mind.  
__  
“Come on, Cordis, if you give up now, the fact that you tried at all doesn’t even matter.”  
  
Maybe that was what he needed. Tarou being there. If his friend could just guide Reis’s hand to his mouth, encourage him in that backhanded, asshole way. If Tarou were there, staring at Reis’s mouth as if it was personally holding his attention hostage… 

____Reis looked down and the last bites were gone, more than he meant to finish, actually. Dazed, he asked for his check, feeling a potent mix of triumph and regret._ _ _ _


	2. Part 2: Umetarou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ehh?? What the fuck has Cordis done now, and how is Tarou supposed to deal with it?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHAT THE INSPO DRAWINGS WERE A **SEQUENCE** so here's more! This took me much, much longer to write than the first part, but it's also, like, three times the length. The math doesn't really add up writing Tarou just terrified me but I did it eventually!!!

Umetarou was a little worried as he walked up the block from on-street parking to the location Cordis had given him. Only a little, though. He’d sounded rather strained over the phone, but he was apparently still well enough to call and ask for an esoteric favor? Tarou didn’t really have a clear idea of what happened, but getting there would sate his curiosity and stave off his anxiety, so he subconsciously picked up his pace. 

When Cordis finally came into view around the corner, Tarou stopped in his tracks. The human was standing on the curb, lementing what he… seemed to have done to himself? His sweatshirt, usually slack on his thin form, was straining against a stomach that seemed to be filled to Cordis’ max capacity. Cordis was holding himself, looking like it was taking everything in his power not to whine at the sky pitifully. 

Tarou let out a little huff of disbelief at the sight and felt a blush creep up his cheeks. It was a bit confusing, what seeing him like this did to him. Cordis let a groan slip out, and Tarou was overwhelmed by the need to respond to the sound. He had to touch, to feel the weight of that against himself, _immediately_. He stalked over without another thought. 

“Food is so heavy… My back hurts…” 

Tarou’s posture was absolutely ravenous as he loomed over Cordis, his prey totally unaware. Hands brandished like claws, eyes glinting black, he took a moment to savor his vulnerability before striking. Without so much as a greeting, Tarou grabbed Cordis around the waist from behind and pulled him close. The other stiffened, confused but too full to react in any other way. 

“I thought I would be scraping your bloody ass off the sidewalk!” Tarou spoke into the crook of his neck. “This is situation is…. a surprise.” 

Cordis relaxed when he heard Tarou’s voice, but he still seemed a little uncomfortable about being grabbed. “Why is that a theme today…?” 

Tarou released his hold to stand beside Cordis, trailing the tips of his fingers along the other’s strained waistband before fully letting go. A theme? 

“I have no clue what you’re talking about, but it’s not like there isn’t a precedent for it. And you didn’t exactly give me any details. What did you do to yourself?” And why wasn’t Tarou a part of it until now? Tarou looked him up and down quickly, half to take him in one more time, half as if checking for damage. Cordis gave his signature half-smile, with a hint of pain beneath the surface. It was the kind of look that said, _“I’m guilty, but I don’t need to be punished; it’s already happening.”_ Fuck. How could he be so cute when he was also standing on the curb like somebody decided to park a blimp. Tarou folded his arms and stood up straight, assuming the air of someone who hadn’t groped the person they were speaking to less than a minute ago, expecting an answer. 

Cordis closed his eyes and sighed heavily. “It’s uh, a pretty short story, really. I ordered the wrong thing and forced myself not to waste all the food.” Before Tarou could comment, Cordis muffled a burp behind his hand. “Where’s the car?” 

“Ex- _cuse_ you!” Tarou said, summoning as much theatrical disgust as he could. “I come to rescue you from your own mistakes without any explanation, so early in the day, and all I get is ‘ _belch_ where’s the car?!’ ” He spun on his heel and marched back towards his vehicle, assuming that Cordis would just follow. And he did, albeit slowly. He seemed to be laughing under his breath, and Tarou made the decision to ignore it. He ignored it, loudly, with every fiber of his being. 

Tarou took the driver’s seat in one swift motion and watched with sadistic glee from the corner of his eye as Cordis pushed his unwieldy body down into the passenger seat. When he finally settled, he looked like he might pass out right then and there, out of breath and unenthused. 

“Thanks for picking me up,” Cordis managed to mutter eventually. 

“Oh, don’t thank me yet. Do you think I just give out free rides, Cordis? Does the Lecce family also run a charity taxi service that I don’t know about?” 

“Okay, well, what do you want, then?” 

Tarou’s grip on the steering wheel was like a vice. He put the car in drive and took off, keeping his eyes ahead. He couldn’t bring himself to entertain the thought of what he wanted without becoming flustered, so he just claimed, “I’m withholding that information for the time being.” He could see Cordis rolling his eyes in his peripheral vision, but the reaction did nothing to change Tarou’s answer. He had to focus. 

Tarou did his best to navigate them safely to Cordis’ flat, but the ride was absolute torture. He could see the curve of Cordis’ upset stomach in his peripheral vision, and he noticed his gloved hands just. Holding it. As if pleading with his body to stop hurting after what he did to it, or maybe hoping that if his hands took some of the weight, his torso could catch a break. He was mostly quiet, but whenever Tarou made a particularly jarring maneuver, he would make this soft little noise that was somewhere between an “oh no” and a moan, and. Yeah, Tarou’s body was reacting to that. He took another turn, Cordis made another noise, and he couldn’t help but shout. 

“CAN YOU **STOP** DOING THAT, I’M _DRIVING_!” 

“I’m not trying to _seduce_ you!” 

“Whether you’re trying or not isn’t really relevant? Stop anyway??” 

“Ugh, fine.” He moved a hand to his mouth, which probably wouldn’t muffle anything, but at least signaled that he was attempting to comply. Tarou could have sworn that he also mumbled something. 

“Ehh? What was that, Cordis?” Tarou leaned over in his seat at a frankly dangerous angle, cocking a pointed ear. 

“Nothing...” 

Tarou sat up sharply and shook the wheel a few times, jerking the vehicle purposefully. Cordis shied away and grabbed onto the oh-shit-bar above the door to steady himself against the onslaught. 

“Are you ceeeertain that it was nothing? I thought I heard something rather opiniona-” 

“Drive better if you want me to be quiet, maybe,” he gritted out, and Tarou laughed.

+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+x+

Tarou parked and then stewed for a moment, twirling the fob to his car on a finger and trying desperately to calm himself after the teasing he got on the trip. Should it count as teasing if all Cordis was doing was existing next to him? No. Was he calling himself the victim anyway? Yes.

His attention was pulled from his inward spiral by a tap on the car window. He turned toward the sound and found Cordis half out the door and looking extremely embarrassed. 

“Can you, uh, help me out of the car?” 

Tarou’s face instantly lit up mustard-gold. “Ehhh? Why should I?! How did you get out of the restaurant?!” He was already getting out of his seat, though, even has he argued against helping. 

“I just pushed off the table, man, but your car is too low, and every part of me is way too heavy.” As if to demonstrate, Cordis sluggishly tried to push himself off the dashboard while using the door for leverage, but he was thwarted by what looked like a sizable cramp in his abdomen. His own weight pushed him back down into the seat (which was pretty low, Tarou could admit…) and his eyes lost some focus. The fact that Cordis managed to trap himself, and the pain was keeping him down… 

“Alright, stop, I get it!” He stalked around the vehicle, and his hand shook a bit before he grabbed Cordis by the upper arm and hoisted him onto his feet. Why was it so much easier to touch him when Cordis wasn’t looking earlier? Why was Tarou so much more flustered now? Was it because Cordis actually asked him to do it? He cut off his own train of thought before he could figure it out. “Though, it’s pretty pathetic that a little overeating can hobble you to this degree. Can you make it to the damn elevator, at least?” 

“A _little_ over-? Yeah, I think I can. Thanks.” Cordis let out a long sigh when Tarou let go of him, but his gaze seemed to have some focus again, so Tarou took his word for it. He still had his suspicions, though, and ended up following all the way to the lift.

And then they were both inside the small echoey space. Cordis looked at Tarou with bemusement, and Tarou ignored it to lean forward and press “4”. Cordis was a little fidgety, but eventually decided to take advantage of Tarou’s presence by leaning on him. Without the white noise of the street, Cordis’ breath could be heard, somewhat labored and heavy. He really sounded like he needed a break, and Tarou tried to give him one, adjusting for the other’s weight, a hand coming up to brace him reflexively and rub a small circle on the back of his arm. 

Cordis glanced at him again when the doors opened, as if asking how long he was going to stick around, but Tarou didn’t release his hold until they reached the door to his flat. At that point he slid his hands in his pockets and watched Cordis key the door open. 

“Thanks again, for uh, bringing me back.”

“Oh, sure, very important that you didn’t have to spend eight years waddling your way here so you could get to, uh- What are you supposed to be doing today?” 

“I think I’m just... gonna sleep…” 

“It’s not even ten a.m.?!” 

“You can come in and keep me awake, if it’s that important to you.” 

“Eh? Is that what you think I want?”

“Well, you still haven’t told me how I’m ‘sposed to thank you, so, I’m taking a guess. And also trying to be polite.” 

“ _Tch_ , because asking me to keep you functional and do more favors for you is _really_ balancing out the tab you’ve opened.”

They stood in front of the open door for a frankly ridiculous amount of time. Cordis seemed to notice this and actually entered the flat, forcing Tarou to make some sort of decision. 

“Well, if you come in,” he said as he went, “it gives you more time to think of something that’s, uh, equivalent.” 

Tarou folded his arms and followed closely, watching Cordis like a hawk, but just like, his footing. That was all he was doing-- making sure he stayed standing. “You don’t seem to understand. That task in itself becomes more herculean the longer I’m here. Your heart would stop if you could see the bill tabulating as we speak.” 

Actually, there was no tabulating happening. Tarou knew what he wanted, he just couldn’t fathom _asking_ for it. He wanted to slide his hands along Cordis’ body and see how many different noises he could get the other to make-- release the clasp on his jeans, which was still notably closed, to give him room to breathe-- press into him until he complains, and then drown out the pain with relief-- but he’d have to be convinced it wasn’t his idea. 

“Oh, you’re alive. And Tarou’s here.” Sinclair’s voice floated down the hall from the kitchen as the two entering kicked their shoes off. 

“He’s alive, but at what cost?” Tarou called back, poking his head around the corner to get a gander at Clair, who was cleaning out the fridge, or something. Tarou didn’t really care. “Hello, Worms.” 

Sinclair sighed, continuing to take containers out of the fridge without turning around. “Did you make him eat everything by himself?” 

“No, actually, he didn’t tell me about it at all!! I’m more than a little offended that I only get the aftermath.” 

“Gross. I’m not gonna look.” 

“You should! He’s turned himself into a zeppelin, it’s quite spectacular.” 

Reis took that moment to enter the conversation by letting out a long, almost tortured groan. Apparently he was only holding back while they were in _public_. Tarou was glad Worms wasn’t looking at him, because he was obviously frustrated by it, and he’d be giving Tarou that _look_ that he gets when he knows someone’s come over just to get in Cordis’ bed. 

Cordis slides past Tarou and leans on the corner of the kitchen counter. Tarou totally doesn’t notice how he has to angle himself sideways to do so. “Alright, so, I can’t argue that I don’t resemble an obsolete form of aircraft. So I won’t. But, Clair, I’m sorry about earlier, with the scary texts.”

Worms sprays a paper towel and hides behind the fridge door as he wipes the inside of the appliance down. While he avoids looking at Cordis, Duguan splits a few tendrils out and peers up over the door. Tarou thinks it looks curious, and then… _wildly jealous_. He snorts. 

“Oh, I’m over it by now. It just sounded like something more serious, but… it looks like you got what was coming to you, so…” Sinclair shrugged, and it could only be seen because Duguan bobbed up and down a bit. 

Cordis laughed, and then grunted from the way it strained him, and Tarou coughed discreetly to hide a strangled whine. Cordis kept talking. “Are you sure we’re cool?” 

“Yeah, we’re cool. Go lie down, you look terrible.” 

How did he-? Oh, right. Worms. Duguan was probably yammering his inner ear off with the impulse to eat like Cordis, or however the fuck it was that Sinclair explained that they communicate. 

“Mnhh, it’s far…” Cordis leaned more heavily onto the counter and looked like he was going to fall asleep cuddling the coffee maker. This was completely unacceptable. 

“For fuck’s sake, Cordis, quit making me do this!!” Tarou bristled. It wasn’t _fucking far at all_ Cordis was just _messing with him_ and GOD DAMN IT IT WAS WORKING. He slid an arm under one of Cordis’ and around his waist, taking his weight off the counter and guiding him away. “Seriously, how much labor are you going to wring out of me? I’m being run ragged, Worms, RAGGED!!” 

Worms graced him with a snort as they left the kitchen and walked the ten feet it took to get to the bedroom. 

Despite all his rough words, and his favorite pastime of playing the antagonist, he deposited Cordis on the edge of his bed smoothly, without a single jostle. Cordis listed to the side, going limp against the headboard and his pillows. Tarou didn’t think that looked like the most comfortable pose, but he didn’t comment as he threw himself across the foot of the bed. Cordis bounced a bit on his end of the bed and looked displeased about it. 

They didn’t really say anything for a while. There had been silences all along the trip, but this one felt sticky, murky, maybe a little uncomfortable. The time of day made things feel odd, what with the way Nier’s Cross made morning look like nothing more than a smudge. Cordis’ window offered a flat, weak light, and Tarou found himself wishing for something starker. Something that would add more definition, make the scene feel real. The thoughts that had been rattling and buzzing in his skull, petulant and unsortable, were now slowing their frequency to match the rhythm of Cordis’ breaths, which seemed the only keepers of time. 

Part of him wanted to fight the way his mind began to orbit around Cordis and only Cordis. It seemed that today, though, that part of him wasn’t big enough to win. He rolled his head to the left and peered at Cordis from the corner of his eye. He looked the same as he had all morning, but now, from this angle, Tarou could only see his shoulders, and the only reminder of his situation was the lack of wrinkles in his sweatshirt. He found himself straining his eyes to pick out the stretched spots- 

“Ughh…” Tarou nearly jolted when Cordis stirred, letting out more noises and moving his hands on himself experimentally. “My stomach hurts so much.” 

“Well, fuck, Cordis, what do you expect _me_ to do about it?” he spat, letting no sign of his previous fixation slip into his voice. 

He turns, just enough to mirror Tarou’s corner-of-the-eye gaze. “I dunno, rub it, maybe?” 

“Eh-- ehhh??” Cordis always catches him off guard with his bluntness, but it only lasted a split second. “Ha! Is that intended to be a joke? You're going to ask me to do something boring and _delicate_ , even after I've already done you a favour? Cordis, who knew you were so selfish.” Who knew he was generous enough to read his mind and give him an out. 

Cordis laughed, like he didn’t buy a lick of his act anymore. He probably never did. “Well, uh, if you hate it so much, why are we in my room now?” 

So they don’t antagonize Worms with foodplay. “Maybe that’s just because I’m a better person than you? Lie down.” 

Cordis smirked and scooted down so he had room to lay. Tarou wiggled up against the wall and slowly pulled Cordis until they were flush. The drywall behind him chilled his back through his shirt, and Cordis set his front alight with warmth. He slid a hand along the hem of his sweatshirt, searching for- 

“Ah-!” 

“Holy shit, Cordis, I haven’t done anything yet.” 

“Look, it just,” he pushed a sharp breath through his nose, “It hurts a lot, okay?” 

Tarou hummed and continued on his mission. “Well, idiot, maybe start with this.” He punctuated his statement by undoing the clasp of his jeans, and Cordis twinged before melting down into the mattress and Tarou. 

“Thank you,” he breathed. 

Tarou shook his head, burying his nose in Cordis’ locks. “I already said this-- Don’t thank me so soon.” 

Tarou couldn’t see much from this angle, and figured he might as well close his eyes. He traced his fingers along the indents Cordis’ jeans had inflicted, and the skin jumped under his touch. He slipped his palm down as well, tracing the heft of Cordis’ stomach with the edge of his thumb. He heard, felt, Cordis’ breath hitch, and he couldn’t help but snicker. 

“Cold?” 

“Y-yeah, but…” He turned his face down towards the bed, mussing his bangs up as he pressed into the blankets. “It’s, um, nicer than I thought it would be. Soothing.” 

Well, Tarou’s hands were going to warm up pretty fast, but he wasted not another moment of them being chilly. While the right one kept up by Cordis’ belt, the left one snaked under his side, teasing his sweatshirt and t-shirt up, going for the curviest part it could reach. Cordis gasped, then groaned through his nose, slow and relieved. The right worked the fabric up further, further over the mound of Cordis’ stomach, and Tarou shuddered at the moment it sprang up, finally done with stretching. God, this is such a specific thing to like, he’s not sure how either of them didn’t know they were into it- 

Cordis got impatient with Tarou’s pace, taking his right hand and guiding it to a spot on his side. “Here, please…?” 

Tarou huffed. “Beggars can’t be choosers, you know.” 

“I haven’t begged, yet.” 

“Oh, but you’ve whined enough for it to count.” 

Regardless of what came out of his mouth, he complied, rubbing circles over the firm surface and listening as Cordis came undone. Fuck, Cordis’ gut wasn’t the only thing that was firm, and Tarou found himself pulling the other’s hips closer and closer, impossibly so. Holy shit, they had so many clothes on, was Tarou planning on rubbing against Cordis until they both came in their fucking pants? 

Perturbed, Tarou took a break to tug at Cordis’ bulky sweatshirt. 

“Nnnnhh, why would you stop…?” He sounded victimized, as if not having Tarou’s hands on him for two seconds brought the pain back tenfold. 

“There’s just- Okay, chill, I just want less fabric, and this thing’s hood is _in my face-_ ” He cut off his own sputtering and tossed the hoodie somewhere on the bed, promptly pulling Cordis back into him. Well, whatever happens happens, he supposed. 

They continued. Tarou switched from strokes to circles often, trying to keep this up for as long as Cordis would need without his arms getting exhausted. He kept careful track of his reactions-- groans, gasps, moans, a few burps, as was to be expected. At one point Cordis hiccuped, and that was _criminally cute_. Downright illegal. Sometimes Tarou would get a little bored, and then he would press down, just a bit, and Cordis’ voice would crack with surprise, and then he would groan again and press back into Tarou, down into the bed. 

After a while of this, Cordis was slack in every joint, finally relaxed. His responses were growing quieter, his quips shorter, and his breath was finally something normal. But this wasn’t what Tarou was trying to accomplish, no. 

“Ah-ah, Cordis,” he whispered, sliding his hand ever lower until it slipped under the hem of his boxers. “It’s not nap time yet-- I’m keeping you up, remember?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿ I'm a weenie.


End file.
